


Prompts & Drabbles -  There's Something About You (Takes My Blues Away)

by noos



Series: TSAY - Modern AU Verse [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, tsay verse, various prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-25 14:16:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20027167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noos/pseuds/noos
Summary: Various prompts, missing scenes and drabbles from the modern au verse of "There's Something About You (Takes My Blues Away)"Prompt #1 - Theon and Gendry talk after the mugging and Arya and Gendry's fight.Prompt #2 - After a night of drinking, Arya gives Gendry a tattoo in his new shop.Prompt #3 - The night Arya and Gendry meet. Gendry POV.





	1. Prompt #1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Semperlitluv](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semperlitluv/gifts), [mayb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayb/gifts).

> So, I got a number of prompts for this verse which I'm very happy to write, so I decided to create a separate story for those. Longer prompts (such as the theonsa wedding one I already posted) will be posted as separate stories, but short scenes and fics will be collected here.

**"As much as the angst hurts my heart, I’d be curious what Gendry said to Theon in that conversation Theon mentions to Arya when she and Gendry are apart." - Semperlitluv  
**

* * *

* * *

_I can’t do this anymore._

Gendry sighs as he pushes the door to Dany and Yara’s flat open, fully aware it won’t be locked. 

The girls weren’t really big on keeping their door closed as it was, but with Theon a permanently-sprawled and unwilling-to-move fixture on their couch as of late, leaving it unlocked has become their go-to mode. It’s just easier when they know he will absolutely not be bothered to get off the couch for any other reason than to use the bathroom.

Never one to subvert expectations, Theon lies on the living room couch staring numbly at the ceiling when Gendry walks into the flat, his pale face even whiter than it was the day before, hair sticking to his forehead and lips almost colourless.

Gendry hates seeing him like this. He knows he’ll figure it out eventually, that Theon sometimes needs the space and time to process things, but this ghost version of his friend is something he doesn’t like seeing too much of. He understands, of course, and knows all about triggers and how the past can catch up and hit you where it hurts the fucking most, but it doesn’t make it any easier to watch Theon go through it. The worst part is how helpless Gendry feels around him, failing to get through to him as hard as he tries.

Theon doesn’t move, the twitch of his brow the only sign that he actually hears Gendry walking into the living room.

Gendry sighs again, shrugging off his jacket and dropping the kebabs on the table next to Theon. He throws a glance towards Yara and Dany’s bedroom, noting the open door. They’re not home, then.

He turns his attention back to Theon as he plops himself down on the couch to his left.

“I got us lunch,” he announces, reaching for the paper bag and grabbing a parcel at random. Theon doesn’t move. “Hey,” Gendry prods, leaning forward to nudge his friend. “Come on, straighten up, you gotta eat.”

“‘M not hungry,” Theon mumbles.

“You’re always hungry,” Gendry argues, wrapping his fingers around Theon’s shoulder and helping him up a little more forcefully than he normally would. 

He sighs as he loosens his hold on his friend, trying to keep it together.

“I’m not always hungry,” Theon protests weakly but he straightens up nonetheless, slumping on the couch and taking the offered sandwich from Gendry’s hand. “No one is always hungry.”

Gendry closes his eyes, willing himself to stay calm as he reaches for a second parcel for himself and unwraps it. Theon isn’t being more difficult than he’s been this past week, but Gendry’s nerves are especially frayed today, every little thing putting him on edge. He nearly lost it at the solicitor’s when he was signing the deed over to Shireen earlier, his sister’s grounding hand on his shoulder the only thing that kept him from biting the man’s head off. 

He should’ve known this bloody day would be fucked the moment he woke up and _she_ wasn’t there next to him.

Things hadn’t exactly been good with them the past few weeks, but their lazy mornings in bed whenever they spent the night together were one of the few constants. Until this morning, that is.

His stomach lurches angrily as he remembers the events that unfolded in his kitchen. He takes a bite from his sandwich anyway, forcing the food down as he tries not to think about his fight with Arya. About how she’s one more person who doesn’t want him.

He groans under his breath. It doesn’t matter what she wants or doesn’t want. He has to stop thinking about that. He has to stop thinking about her altogether. 

“You’re right,” he manages eventually, shooting Theon a forced smile. “But you haven’t been eating properly and you need some food in you if you’re ever going to get Sansa back.”

“I’m not getting Sansa back,” Theon murmurs weakly, taking a very small bite from his wrap. 

Gendry growls, willing himself to stay calm, but he doesn’t think he will be successful for long.

“Because some guy with a fucking knife attacked you and you got scared?” He barks harshly, noting the way Theon flinches and narrows his eyes a little.

“Because I can’t bloody protect her,” Theon argues half-heartedly.

Gendry laughs humourlessly, all the pressure from this morning and the past week and the past month and the past life violently coursing through him.

He’s about to either implode or explode. He’s not sure which, yet.

“And you think that’s what Sansa wants?” He asks, his voice delirious. “Your protection? What are you, a bloody security system?”

Theon swallows thickly, taking another bite from his sandwich and staring down at his lap.

“That’s not what I mean, Gendry,” he mutters. “You know that. Stop being an idiot.”

His ears ring painfully at the choice of word, Arya’s face forcing itself to the front of his thoughts until he has to shut his eyes harshly, shaking his head to chase her away.

Explode, then.

“If one of us is being an idiot right now, I promise you it’s not me,” he counters, his voice rising with his anger. A part of him knows he should be calming down, that it’s probably not a good idea to be a dick to Theon when he’s feeling down. But he can’t help himself. He can’t watch Theon throw his life away like that when everyone is fighting tooth and nail to make sure he’s good. “Sansa doesn’t need your protection,” he tell him slowly, words sharp on his tongue. “That girl’s been through hell and back and _she_ got herself out of it. She doesn’t need any of us to save her. What she does need is for you to be there for her and let her be there for you. She needs you to not run away the minute things get a little hard.”

Theon’s face falls impossibly, one hand coming up to scratch his cheek guiltily. “I’m not running away,” he says in a low voice.

Gendry scoffs another laugh, still as incredulous as before.

“Really?” He creases his forehead. “You call _this,” _he gestures vaguely at the apartment they’re in, “not running away? Mate, you haven’t been home in a week!” Gendry rubs his face a little harshly, forcing himself to calm down. He swallows thickly as Arya flashes again in his mind when he thinks of home. He throws the rest of his sandwich onto the nearby table, tired of forcing the food down his throat. “Theon,” he continues, his voice much lower now, barely above a whisper. “The girl you love, she loves you back. She wants to help you. Not everyone is that lucky.”

_I’m not that lucky._

Theon’s eyes flash with something for a second, his gaze curious as he looks at Gendry. But then he shakes his head, setting his wrap on the table as well.

“I just don’t know how to face her,” he admits finally.

“So tell her that,” Gendry urges. “Sansa knows you and she knows what she got herself into when she decided to be with you. She’s not going to balk if you tell her you’re having a difficult time with things.”

“But she shouldn’t have to put up with someone like me,” Theon tries again.

Though Theon keeps putting himself down, Gendry takes the win. He’s getting him to talk, at least. Sure, it’s barely ten words, but it’s ten words more than he’s gotten out of him all week.

“Maybe not,” Gendry concedes. “But she wants to. And I don’t think that’s your call to make, mate. Sansa is a grown woman who makes her own choices. And she’s choosing you. Are you not choosing her back?”

“Of course I am!” Theon argues immediately, voice a little sharper. It’s funny how the more riled up Theon gets, the better Gendry feels. “What kind of idiot do you think I am?”

“Then stop being a dick and talk to her,” Gendry shrugs. “You’ve been through worse. She’s bloody there, I’m bloody here, Yara’s bloody here. Talk to us, talk to your therapist, talk to the void. Just bloody talk to someone. It has to be you. We can’t do it for you.”

He wants to say more, but Theon’s phone rings in that moment, interrupting them both.

Theon looks down at the phone in his lap, eyebrows crashing together as a small smile plays on his lips.

“It’s her.”

Like Gendry needed to be told to figure it out. He keeps the comment to himself, nodding encouragingly.

“Go on, then,” he urges with a small smile. “Talk to her.”

Theon stares at him for a few more seconds before he takes a deep breath and picks up the call. “Hey.” He tugs on a loose thread in his cotton shorts, flicking it around his fingers. “Yeah, me too. I miss you.”

Gendry gets off the couch then, walking over to the kitchen and grabbing himself a coke from the fridge to give Theon some privacy.

He takes a sip as he leans against the counter, feeling a lump lodge itself painfully in his throat, Arya’s face crawling behind his lids once again.

_I can’t do this anymore._

He blinks her face away, trying to keep himself together.

Neither can he.


	2. Prompt #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #2 - After a night of drinking, Arya gives Gendry a tattoo in his new shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For solitary-creatures-they on tumblr. I hope you like it!

**"After a night of drinking, Arya gives Gendry a tattoo in his new shop." - solitary-creatures-they**

* * *

* * *

“This is a baaaaad idea.”

Arya sighs as she and Gendry turn to glare at Jon for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, rolling her eyes at him as Gendry unboxes the fresh needle.

* * *

"_Hey.” _

_Arya turns her attention to her right, leaning softly into Gendry when tilts close and leaves a feather light kiss to her jaw._

_Theon laughs loudly at something Sansa says but Arya keeps her full attention on her boyfriend. _

_“Yeah?”_

_His face lights up in that impish look he often gives her, eyes a little soft around the edges but lips curved in an entirely-too-mischievous grin._

_She tries to curb her own growing smile, rolling her eyes as she wills herself to ignore the way her stomach still twists whenever he’s that close to her._

_“Wanna get out of here and give me that tattoo tonight?”_

_For a moment, she really forgets how fucking intoxicated with him she actually is, her eyes widening in surprise. But then, her whole face lights up, already half off her stool._

_Gendry reaches out for her hand before she can get too far, keeping her in place as he turns to pay their tab. _

_It’s unfortunate that just about everyone decides to join them._

* * *

They first talked about her giving him a tattoo months ago, when he first opened his shop. Gendry was cleaning up his work station before his next appointment and she was helping him sort out his ink bottles and probably asking way too many questions when he’d suggested she give him a tattoo.

She laughed it off at first. But then he asked her again a few days later, and a few days after that, and suddenly the idea of giving him a tattoo didn’t seem so absurd anymore. The idea of literally leaving her mark on Gendry was overwhelming in ways she couldn’t even begin to explain, but it was also surprisingly exciting. 

“No, really,” Jon insists, “this a bad idea.”

As far as Arya’s concerned, this is a perfectly suitable idea, one of her better alcohol-induced impulses, even. She’s not even drunk, she barely had two beers and a shot.

And anyway, Jon is being a little bit of a dick tonight. He’s generally a grumpy drunk but Ygritte has been away for a few weeks so he’s been especially sour as of late. Arya really can’t wait for her to come back.

“Jon, stop being a right wanker,” Sansa grumbles before Arya can say anything.

Arya’s lips cock up on one side as she turns to look at her sister.

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” she tells her as she pulls her gloves on. “Besides, my dear Jonny, it’s not the first time I’ve done this.”

Jon groans. “Stop calling me that.”

“That literal dot that you tattooed on Sansa’s finger doesn’t count,” Robb points out at the same time.

“Excuse me?!” Sansa gasps in full offense, eyes wide and cheeks flushed with the amount of alcohol she’s had. “It counts as a perfectly full and complex tattoo!” 

She holds up her middle finger at her brother, trying to show him the nearly invisible tattoo. Or maybe just giving him the middle finger because he deserves it.

Theon snorts as Arya laughs, already fed up with her brothers. She doesn’t even know why they came along anyway. It’s not like either she or Gendry invited anyone to tag along. In fact, she explicitly begged them not to come, but they just ignored her and marched right on.

“Right,” Gendry mutters, taking a seat on the tattoo bed and lifting his sleeve up, “if you dipshits are going to be dicks about it, you can bloody well shove off.”

Arya doesn’t really need him to defend her honour or anything, but it’s cute that he wants to anyway. So she bares her teeth in an affectionate smile as he positions his arm on the small worktable between them. 

She goes about washing the stretch of skin with disinfectant and soap and drying it before she applies the tiny stencil to his wrist.

* * *

_"I’ll do it.”_

_Gendry looks up from his sketchbook, eyebrows shooting up as Arya throws her duffel on the floor before toeing off her sneakers and throwing her keys on the living room table. His lips curl up in a grin as she throws herself on the couch next to him, ruffling his hair and tugging on the strings of his hoodie to pull him closer and kiss the corner of his mouth._

_He throws his sketchbook to the side as he pulls away, watching her fondly as she pulls one of his hands into her lap and starts toying with his fingers._

_“Do what?”_

_“The tattoo,” she tells him. “I’ll give you a tattoo.”_

_His grins stretches as he turns his hands in her lap, squeezing her thigh._

_“Good,” he mumbles, trying to curb his excitement. “That’s good.”_

_“So what is it?” She asks, still playing with his fingers, even as they rest on her leg. “You’ve been talking about it for a while, so I assume you know what you want me to ink?”_

_He feels himself warm up a little, unsure of what her reaction is going to be. He clears his throat as he shifts his eyes to focus on their hands in her lap._

_“I was thinking a Weirwood leaf,” he says, trying to keep it casual. He dares lift his eyes to meet hers again, not really able to read the look on her face. “Something to remember the North,” he adds hurriedly, trying to save face. He doesn’t want her to freak out at the implication. At what it means for him to get something so entrenched in her roots inked on his body. Especially when it’s part of something she already has tattooed on her stomach. "I've become kind of fond of it, the few times we’ve visited.”_

_She doesn’t say anything at first, only leaning forward to kiss him. Her lips linger on his for a long moment before she pulls back, pressing a second, shorter kiss to his mouth and following it up by a third even briefer one. _

_“Show me what you’ve got sketched, then.”_

* * *

It didn’t matter that he told her it was about the North because she was fully aware it was complete bullshit. The tattoo was something to remember _her_ by because he’s always been a sentimental little shit like that.

She’s a sentimental little shit, too.

He doesn’t know it yet, but she wants a pair of antlers tattooed on her inner elbow. She wants them in the same style as the ones on the stag on his collarbone.

Because, really, it’s that tattoo in particular that pretty much haunted her entire existence for weeks after they met, so she might as well. Well, that and his dumb, cute, infuriating smile, but she couldn’t get _that_ inked, so she’ll stick to the antlers.

After finalizing the sketch, he worked on the stencil and taught her all about the different needles and pressures and skin layers and all the ways to handle the ink to keep lines tight, contrast colours and achieve different strokes. 

And while she wasn’t a pro by any means, she thinks she’s got the basics down.

She hopes so, anyway, because Gendry has already promised he doesn’t plan on getting it retouched, no matter how badly she screws it up.

That thought alone causes her stomach to flip, nerves suddenly settling in her gut.

What if she completely fucks it up?

As if sensing her worry, Gendry reaches his free hand to softly palm her cheek, running his thumb briefly over her lips until her eyes meet his.

“Unless you try to kill me, there’s literally no way this can go bad,” he reassures.

There’s a million ways this can go bad, she knows, but she smiles as she nods anyway, pressing a kiss to his palm before he pulls it away. 

She takes a deep breath before she starts up the tattoo machine and leans forward to trace the lines with the needle in her hand.

* * *

Robb and Jon remain suspiciously calm after Gendry shushes them. He knows they’re actually quite supportive of their sister and were just being assholes, but he takes comfort in the little encouragements they give her when she starts, sneaking a peek every few minutes and telling her she’s doing a good job.

Gendry watches her in silence as she works on adding the small tattoo to the sea of black already littering his forearm. He can’t help but smile affectionately at the wrinkle between her brows and the way her tongue slips out of her mouth whenever she’s especially focused.

It’s not exactly painless, her untrained hand pressing the needle a little harsher than it needs to, but it doesn’t hurt as much as he expects from someone doing their first tattoo. He knows for a fact that the first tattoo he ever gave was a complete mess. It’s been over five years and, to this day, he’s not entirely sure Grey’s arm has recovered.

“I think I’m done,” she tells him after a while, pulling back to observe her work.

He looks down, taking in the small leaf. He’s bleeding a little but it looks pretty good, the red ink blending perfectly with the burgundy she used for the darker parts, the black lines framing the leaf beautifully.

It doesn’t matter what it looks like, if he’s being honest, because it’s a part of Arya that he’s allowed to keep on him forever.

“It looks perfect,” he offers, voice thick as he tries to keep from getting emotional.

He’s always been an emotional drunk, and it doesn’t matter if he’s sobered up long ago, he’ll still blame it on that.

For a moment, she smiles brightly at his words, her pride showing. But then she rolls her eyes, never able to take a full compliment.

“It’s not perfect,” she mumbles.

“It’s not,” he relents after a moment, nodding as she cleans off the excess ink and blood with a cloth. “But it’s pretty damn close.”

Her smile doesn’t falter this time.


	3. Prompt #3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #3 - The night Arya and Gendry meet. Gendry POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For mayb. I hope you like it!

**"I would love to read more about their initial hook up, especially what Gendry was thinking and feeling that night and the next morning." - Mayb  
**

* * *

* * *

It’s not like Gendry hates fun. He really does appreciate a drink and some good music as much as the next person. It’s just that parties, especially ones thrown by his uncle in his mansion of a house, are decidedly _not_ his thing. 

It’s even worse because he barely knows anyone in this place aside from Hot Pie.

Sansa and Theon are away for the weekend so they couldn’t make it, and Grey has come down with the fever from hell so he had to skip tonight, Missandei choosing to stay behind with him to make sure he doesn’t perish alone.

Gendry doesn’t have any clue where Renly and Loras fucked off to. He barely saw them when he got to the party, never to be heard from again after that.

And though he thinks he spotted that guy Jon that Sansa introduced him to last week, he’s not sure the dude actually recognized him, smiling drunkenly at him before turning his attention to the freckled redhead next to him. 

He sighs tiredly as he stands against the wall in the cramped living room, watching people all around him as he shoves one hand in his pocket. He takes a sip from his drink only to realize his beer bottle is actually empty. 

His eyes light up victoriously, holding his bottle up to show Hot Pie. 

“We’re done,” he tells his friend. “I kept my end of the deal. My second beer is done, so now I can get out of here.”

“Gendry, come on--“

“Hot Pie, you can stay,” he reassures quickly, hands placating. “I don’t mind, I swear, I just want to get out of here.”

“I’m not staying here without you,” Hot Pie argues immediately, dismissing that option. He sighs. “But you’ve kept your end of the bargain, so I’ll keep mine.”

Gendry smiles at his friend gratefully, turning to throw his beer in the nearest bin and starting to walk towards the front door.

It’s not exactly easy, the house literally cramped with an inhuman amount of people. Gendry literally has no idea how his uncle knows so many people. If he gathers all the people he’s met in his entire fucking life, they wouldn’t fill half the space. 

They’re just rounding the corner to the foyer when Gendry bumps into someone, instinctively reaching his arms out to steady the person in front of him and keep them both from falling.

He pulls himself long enough to take a good look at her, this girl nearly half his size who just about knocked him off his feet. 

Her dark grey eyes stare at him with an air of annoyance, brows pushed together as she shrugs her shoulders to get his hands off her. 

Gendry is pretty sure she’s about ready to tear into him when Hot Pie speaks next to them.

“Arry?”

The girl’s eyes immediately leave Gendry’s to flicker to the boy next to him, her entire face softening incredibly fast when she spots his friend.

“Hot Pie,” she greets him coolly, her voice a lower pitch than Gendry expects from such a tiny person. “Hi.”

She tips herself forward to wrap her arms around Hot Pie, laughing lightly when the latter squeezes her tight enough to momentarily lift her off the floor. 

“It’s good to see you, Arry!” Hot Pie tells her enthusiastically when he lets her go, keeping a hand on her shoulder. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m just visiting Storm’s End,” she shrugs, her eyes flitting to Gendry for a second before she looks back at Hot Pie. Gendry can’t take his eyes off her, completely entranced by her. “Came here with some friends but I’ve lost them.”

“Oh, that sucks,” Hot Pie offers, sounding genuinely sympathetic. “Well, would love to stay, but we were going—“

“To grab a drink and head outside,” Gendry jumps in quickly before he can even think about what he’s doing. 

It’s too scary to think try and understand it properly, really, this sudden need to stay here and get to know this girl. It’s the first time he’s felt so taken with anyone, even though he’s pretty sure she was about to deck him not three minutes ago. 

Hot Pie’s face scrunches up in confusion.

“I thought you wanted to get out of here?” He asks a little dumbly, his hand dropping from the girl’s shoulder.

Gendry nods exaggeratedly, trying to save face. 

“Go outside,” he rushes out, still nodding like a right idiot. “To the back. It’s too crowded so I need some air. But I definitely want to stay at this party.” The girl - Arry? The fuck kinda name is that? - lifts a pair of perfectly thick brows at him, looking somewhere between entirely unimpressed and a little amused. “Definitely.”

“Right...” Hot Pie trails off slowly, still looking like he’s trying to piece his entire life together. “Arry, this is Gendry.”

“Gendry Waters,” he offers immediately, nearly reaching out to shake her hand like a proper dumbass. 

_This is not a job interview, pull yourself together you idiot. _

She eyes him for another moment, biting on her lower lip as Gendry feels all the blood rush to his head. He never acts like that much of a wanker unless he’s smashed, and he’s barely had two beers tonight.

“Arya,” she says eventually, and maybe he imagines it, but her eyes flicker to the tattoo on his collarbone for a long while. 

They stand there quietly for a few moments, eyes locked as Gendry’s stomach somersaults in the most unusual way. What the fuck is happening to him?

“D’you wanna join us out back?” Hot Pie asks eventually, still looking like he’s not quite sure what’s unfolding in front of him right now.

If Gendry’s being totally honest, he has zero control over his words and actions right now, so he’s possibly as in the dark as Hot Pie is.

Arya’s gaze shifts to Hot Pie for a moment, before she turns her attention to Gendry again. And yes, she’s definitely eyeing his tattoo now.

“I was actually on my way to...” she trails off, eyes closing for a second before she opens them up again, looking at Gendry once more. “Never mind,” she mumbles, turning to Hot Pie. “Sure. Let’s go.” 

* * *

There’s something entirely too unsettling about her, Gendry decides. In the best way possible, that is. Once he comes to that conclusion – in the five minutes it takes them to grab beers from the kitchen and head outside – he wills himself to calm down.

Sure, he was hell-bent on leaving this damn party and only changed his mind when he bumped into her, but that doesn’t mean he has to make this a bigger deal than it is.

It was unusual, for sure, no one having made such a quick impression on him in his entire 25 years on this earth, but that doesn’t mean he can’t act normal around her.

* * *

It’s actually a lot easier to relax after that.

She’s got the exact right sense of humour, he realizes, a little dirty and entirely too dry, and she can be a downright little shit, rolling her eyes at him more often than not.

She’s quick to judge and a little too haughty even though she doesn’t realize it, but there’s something about the way her eyes twinkle fondly anytime Hot Pie says something especially dim-witted, her gaze flickering to meet Gendry’s for a fleeting second. It just tugs at Gendry in all the right ways.

They share a few cigarettes and more than a few laughs on the back porch before they slip back into the living room.

* * *

They sit together on the couch, pressed from shoulder to knee, her elbow absently resting on Gendry’s thigh as they watch Hot Pie dance like he’s having a seizure a few feet away.

When her eyes flicker to her arm on his leg, Gendry thinks it might not be such an absent gesture after all, his heart jumping into his throat.

* * *

“I need another drink,” she announces when her fifth beer is empty.

Gendry nods, pushing himself off the couch and reaching back for her hand. He’s had enough to drink that he’s not really thinking about every little gesture and word and look he’s giving her, but somehow still aware of the growing whatever that’s coursing between them.

She meets his eyes for a moment before she knots her fingers with his, allowing him to pull her off the couch. Her hand doesn’t leave his as they slither through the throng of people and into the kitchen.

There’s more than a few people in the kitchen but he doesn’t pay any of them close attention, grabbing two beers from the icebox and turning to lean back against the counter.

He realizes just how close Arya stands in front of him as he hands her one of the bottles. Their fingers brush for a long moment, her lips parting as she keeps her eyes firmly on his. Her brows push together for a split second before her face clears like she’s just made up her mind.

She takes a single step towards him, pushing herself up on her toes and Gendry immediately snakes his hand to palm her cheek, leaning down to meet her lips halfway.

* * *

They walk back to the living room after that, their seats on the couch still miraculously empty.

Gendry is perfectly aware of every nerve ending in his body, trying hard to relax as he leans back against the couch cushions. He gives up on trying halfway through his beer, realizing Arya has long given up on it too, her entire left side now leaned against his right shoulder.

She licks her lips as she turns to look at him, and Gendry should be embarrassed by the way his cock twitches immediately, but her lips are too pink and too full and her eyes are dark and fuck it, there’s nothing embarrassing about admitting that literally everything about her turns him on.

She leans close until her lips are brushing his ear, his lids falling close for a moment.

“Bathroom?”

He barely has time to nod before she’s off the couch and pulling him along.

* * *

As far as bathrooms go, the one they find on the second floor is not uncomfortably small and it definitely looks clean enough. Not that Arya seems to care, immediately turning to attack Gendry’s lips as soon as he’s got the door locked behind him.

He keeps a firm arm around her as he walks her backwards until her back hits the sink. His grasp tightens on her waist as he helps lift her up and prop her against it, his other hand firmly on her cheek as their tongues clash together over and over again.

He sure hopes the sink can handle whatever they’re about to do because she tips herself on the ledge and spreads her legs until she’s framing him.

He pulls away for a moment, trailing a finger down her stomach to rest at the top button of her jeans. He pauses, hooded eyes meeting hers.

She nods immediately, using the hands around his neck to pull him close again and bite on his lower lip.

He takes no time before he unbuttons the ripped denim, using one arm to prop her up and the other to slip her pants past her thighs and down her legs until they bunch up at her ankles, immediately repeating the motion to tug her black lace knickers down her legs and gathering them on top of her jeans.

She’s already a little wet when his fingers find her clit, and he only rubs slightly, enjoying the way her breath hitches and the way his own cock twitches when she does so, before slipping one finger inside of her. He pumps slowly at first, trailing his lips down her jaw and then to leave a bruise on her neck.

He slips a second fingers after a few thrusts, and then a third, shifting his other hand until it’s under her shirt, tugging her bra down to flick his thumb over her nipple.

Her breath hitches way too harshly as she tugs him closer, forehead resting against his shoulder as she nips at his collarbone, teeth digging a little sharply.

He gasps in surprises, chuckling as he pulls.

Her eyes are apologetic when they meet his and Gendry can’t stop himself from closing the distance again and pulling her lips between his teeth, fingers pumping more in a more frenetic rhythm into her, his thumb rubbing her clit in what he hopes is a regular enough motion.

It takes barely any time for her breathing to shallow out, sighs frantically coming out in puffs as she moans a little louder. She kisses him once more before she moves her mouth to his shoulder again, gentler now as she buries herself in his shoulder.

Gendry feels her contract around his hand, once, twice, three times, her fingers digging into his back before she muffles her cry into his shoulder, her whole body clenching for a moment before she slumps against him.

They’re both entirely too sweaty, her forehead slippery against his neck as he continues to pump into her, eliciting soft, contented moans for a long time before he feels her slack entirely.

He keeps his hand still as he pulls away slightly to look at her, her hair falling out of her braid as she chuckles, smiling up at him.

He can’t stop himself from closing the distance and pressing another kiss to her lips, slipping his hand out of her and rubbing one last time. She hisses against his lips, and he smiles.

“We should get out of here.”

He barely manages to nod.

* * *

He reaches for her hand as soon as they’re outside the bathroom, trying not to overthink the way her hand automatically clasps tightly around his.

They can’t find Hot Pie – not that they try too hard – so they slip outside, fingers clutched together as she orders an Uber.

* * *

The night is a blur after that.

She repays him the favour as soon as they’re on his bed, flipping them over with surprising ease as they’re making out, pulling her shirt over her head and kissing him deeply before she trails her lips down his stomach and takes his pants off, mouth hot and lips pink when she takes him in.

He doesn’t last long but more than makes up for it the second time, looking up at her as she straddles him, running his hands all over her, palming her tits and waist and ass, taking in every bit of her.

She’s got scars and tattoos and stories on every little inch of her body and a small part of him wonders if he’ll ever get to hear about them.

She leans down to press an open kiss to his collarbone as she sags against him when she comes again, and he wonders if maybe she wants to get to know him too.

It’s a scary thought, one he doesn’t really want to entertain. He’s never had this kind of connection with anyone, sure, but he doesn’t think he can handle someone else fucking up his life, no matter how fascinated he is with her.

He closes his eyes, wrapping his arms around waist as she lies on top of him, telling himself they’ll figure it out in the morning.

* * *

There’s nothing to figure out in the morning because she’s gone by the times he wakes up, the only sign that she was ever in his bedroom the dirty sheets and a shirt she forgot behind.

He wonders what the fuck she wore on her way out if her shirt is still here before he realizes his own shirt from last night is missing.

He doesn’t know if it’s intentional on her part, but he does know he’s not going to dwell on that for too long. She’s gone, no last name, no phone number. And that’s more than enough to convince him that’s where it stops.

It’s better this way, he tells himself.

* * *

Hot Pie brings her up later that day, asking Gendry if he’d seen her leave the night before.

“I think she found her friends eventually,” Gendry mumbles, trying to keep a straight face as they walk over to Grey’s.

“So you guys didn’t leave together?”

“No.”

He doesn’t ask about her again, but she kicks her way back into his life a few months later anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm bullheadedbastardblacksmith on tumblr :)


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